


Angelic Sex practice

by beyond_the_nights_world



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angelic Grace Play (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), M/M, Masturbating Castiel (Supernatural), Masturbation, Oral Sex, PWP without Porn, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_the_nights_world/pseuds/beyond_the_nights_world
Summary: Dean, Cas and Sam had a talk about non-human creatures having sex. Dean won't believe that ANgels have special sexual practices, so Cas had to show
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 69





	Angelic Sex practice

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Ungeplante Wendungen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835384) by [beyond_the_nights_world](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_the_nights_world/pseuds/beyond_the_nights_world). 



Dean waited for the moment that Ashton Kutcher would jump out of the closet and shouted "Punk'd" loudly, because what was happening before his eyes could only be a prank. But neither the closet door opened, nor did Sam and Castiel start to laugh.  
Instead, the angel looked deadly serious at Dean as he stood up and with a wave of his hand cleared the large table in the war room of glasses and other stuff. Sam had slipped back a bit, smiling behind his hand with red cheeks. With one elegant movement, the angel swung himself onto the table, kneeling on his lower legs, his gaze still filled with defiance and stubbornness.  
How had that all started again, Dean wondered and swallowed the saliva that suddenly formed in his mouth in vast quantities. Some kind of book from the bunker ... Sexual practices of monsters and demons ... Dean shook his head imperceptibly and his hand closed more tightly around the whisky bottle. Did Angel had special sexual practices?Cas had nodded, Dean had not believed him and one thing had led to another.  
  
Now Cas was kneeling in front of him on the table, his face slightly reddened by the amount of alcohol that his weakening grace couldn't compensate, and Dean felt that just the sight of Cas did something to him that he didn't understand. Without letting go of Dean's gaze, Cas loosened the dark blue tie that hung crooked around his neck, pulled the white shirt from the waistband until it hung loosely over the fabric of his pants. Then he unbuckled the belt, let the buckle dangle and lay down on the table.  
The light of the table top enveloped the angel and he seemed even more out of this world than he already was. Dean swallowed, biting his lower lip. It would be so easy to go, blaming it all on the alcohol, but he didn't move an inch. His gaze rested on the angel that lay before him like a living sushi buffet still dressed.  
Meanwhile Cas had closed his eyes and his face pointed to the ceiling. He lay relaxed on the table. For a moment nothing happened and Dean was about to laugh that he had fallen for the Angel's fun, when suddenly the lights in the room started to flicker and went out one by one until only the table was lit. From Castiel's chest a small silver-white tentacle began to rise, groping around in the air like a living being. Dean knew it was Cas' grace. The silvery white glow that made up the power of each angel danced before his eyes like a fresh flower reaching for the light.  
Gently it swung back and forth for a moment, getting longer and longer until the tip touched Cas' face. A fingertip of angelic energy gently caressed the angel's cheek, moving up to his hair and through the dark strands.  
  
A calm smile flitted across Cas' face and Dean wondered what it would feel like to be touched by the grace of an Angel. Did it feel like a human hand or did it give you goose bumps like one of those metallic head scratches? The grace tentacle remained in the Angel's dark hair for a few moments before it slowly began to stroke Cas' face and repaint his features. A silvery glow lay on his face that Dean had rarely seen so relaxed. Dean's gaze followed the movements of the grace as it stroked Cas's lips circled his chin, ran across his cheeks and then stroked down his neck. Almost teasingly, it slipped into the neckline of the shirt, where a button was open. Dean could see it shimmering under the fabric. The grace crept down his body like a snake in search of prey. It moved deeper along Cas' sternum and with every inch it moved down under the cloth, one of the shirt buttons popped open until the white cloth slid to the side, exposing the angel's upper body. For the first time Dean could see the Angel's tattoo in all its glory. Beneath the ribs enochian characters stretched out in several rows. The black letters danced up and down like waves with every breath. Castiel had never shown him the tattoo and Dean had never asked to see it, though he had been curious. Now, six years later, it was suddenly presented to him because Cas was lying in front of him, spread out like a living sushi buffet. The grace paused, lying stretched out on Castiel's body, slightly flickering, as if it had to think about what to do next. Then the beam split into two smaller ones. Slowly they moved up Castiel's sides to his chest, stroking his ribs and collarbone, then groping forward to his nipples.  
Like a breeze they stroked the dark buds, eliciting a sigh from Cas and a pull in Dean's abdomen.  
  
The hunter looked at his brother, but the place was empty. Sam seemed to have withdrawn without Dean noticing. Another sigh drew Dean's attention back to Cas. The golden light of the table made Cas skin, on which the first drops of sweat had formed, glow.  
"He looks so delicate," it flashed through Dean's mind, "like caramel-coloured velvet." The tendrils of grace still played with Cas nipples, twisting the dark bud with light pressure. Dean felt the jeans tighten around his crotch. The sight shot from his iris straight into his loins, making his penis throb in his pants. Cas had closed his eyes, no longer seeming to be aware of Dean's presence. What if he just leave? Tomorrow, he could blame everything he experienced on the alcohol or keep it quiet until it was just a funny anecdote. Dean looked at the door, the stairs, the hallway and then his gaze slipped back to Cas without moving a millimeter from the stool and the realization struck, punching him right in the stomach. He could walk, but did he want to? Dean was afraid to answer this question, but all the parts of his body between neck and testicles took the decision away. His throat was dry, his heart was pounding in his chest, his stomach was rumbling, and his sanctum sanctorum had less and less room in his jeans. And all because of Cas. Because of the fallen angel that lay before him and his power with which he could kill demons and monsters, used to send himself to Oblivion.  
  
As if Castiel's mercy had heard Dean's thoughts, the silvery ray began to move slowly, crawling across the angel's abdomen, up to the waistband of the pants, and then slipped under the fabric like a human hand. Dean bit his lips and choked down the feeling of envy. If Cas would ask ... he ... the grace withdrew from the white boxers, built up like a cobra in front of the flutist, in front of Dean. Then the beam waved towards Dean, coming closer and closer and tightening itself around the hunter's wrist. "Dean", it echoed back in his head in Castiel's tune, though the angel hadn't said a word. Castiel was still on the table, but his eyes were no longer closed. Under half-open lids, he looked at Dean, licking with the tip of his tongue over his full lips. The grace pulled on Dean's arm, led him to the table. Then it released Dean's arm and slipped back to Cas' body. Again, it drove under the edge of the boxers, diving deeper into the pants.  
  
Cas moaned, his eyelids closed and he pushed his head back into his neck. Dean could guess what was happening under the cloth and the thought of the grace-tentacle caressing Castiel's cock made Dean breathe in sharply. The performance was breathtaking, but Dean felt the need for more. Carefully, he reached out his hand until he could touch the skin above the waistband of Cas' pants. Castiel twitched slightly as he felt the hunter's fingertips. This time, the "Dean" really came over his lips and Dean took it as approval. Carefully he let his fingers wander to the waistband of the trousers, grabbing the edge of the blue pleated trousers and the white boxer shorts at the same time. Castiel lifted his pelvis and Dean pulled the cloth down over his hips and buttocks, down his legs, until both trousers dangled around Castiel's feet. Dean held his breath and his free hand wandered to his own crotch, pressing his erection, which pressed painfully against the zipper of his jeans, begging for attention.  
  
Cas lay before him in all its glory. Grace had wound itself like a snake around his erected shaft, contracting slowly and evenly. Drops of pleasure poured out, dripping in long streaks onto Cas' stomach. Cas began to writhe under the caresses. His hands had grasped the trench coat that was still underneath him and whenever his grace ran over his glans or softly tinkled at the small slit, his fingers clawed into the fabric. Dean let his gaze wander over Castiel's body, up his strong thighs to the prominent hip bones and his belly, under whose skin his muscles stood out. Thousands of thoughts flashed through Dean's mind as he stood beside the table and slowly unzipped his own pants. His cock acknowledged the release from the narrow jeans dungeon with a grateful leap. Slowly Cas began to move his pelvis, raising and lowering it slightly in time with the grace that had closed tighter around his shaft.  
  
A second beam detached itself from the first and floated indecisively in the air for a moment before slowly descending over Castiel's scrotum. The angel groaned, pulled his legs slightly and spread them apart, opening the way for his grace. Dean stared spellbound at the silvery tentacle that stroked across Cas dam and pushed itself between his buttocks. A short teasing, a short test, then the finger-thick ray penetrated Cas and made the angel groan with delight. A shiver ran down Dean's spine as Cas's hoarse groaning came to his ear, getting louder and more angry with each thrust of grace. Cas turned on the table full of devotion and Dean could no longer hold back. He didn't know what it would mean for their friendship, for life in the bunker, but at that moment Dean didn't care about anything.  
  
He grabbed Cas by the ankles and pulled him to the edge of the table until his butt hung over the edge. Impatiently he tugged at his pants and boxer shorts, which were now dangling around one leg only. Together with the shoes, they fell to the floor. Castiel grace withdrew. Dean stood between Cas' thighs and lifted his legs. With one hand he pulled down his own jeans and shorts, took his erection in his hand and lined it up behind Cas. With one thrust he penetrated the angel and reaped a throaty "Dean" that sounded more pornographic than anything Dean had heard before. Cas entrance felt divine. The muscles of his anus were tight around Dean's shaft and he had to stop for a moment and take some deep breaths not to come within the next few seconds. Cas looked at him, grace glistening greedily in his eyes. Carefully, Dean began to move his pelvis. He had already had anal with one of his endless love affairs, but never with a man. Cas was tight and Dean felt the power of the angel. Slowly, he pulled back until his glans was still surrounded by the tight ring of muscles. Then he pushed forward, buried himself in Castiel   
  
"Yes, Dean, take me, please, harder," Cas gasped. His grace had retreated. Only a single tentacle crawled again over the angel's body, wandering down and enveloping Castiel's erection. Dean increased speed and lost consideration. Cas wanted it harder, and Dean wouldn't deny him that. He would make Cas scream that Sam would have to put a pillow over his ears in his room. Dean reached out and grabbed the blue tie that was still hanging around Castiel's neck and pulled the angel towards him. Cas's legs slipped down and Dean slipped out of Cas.  
  
"What are you doing to me?" Whispered Dean. He leaned his forehead against Cas, his hand still on his tie. Cas looked for Dean's mouth, breathing a kiss on his lips while pulling Dean close.  
  
"What I should have done a long time ago, Dean." He let his hands wander down Dean's arms until he held the hunter's hands in his. "I'm sorry if I made you...." Dean shook his head vigorously as he squeezed Cas' hands. He was grateful that the angel had dared to take the first step. However, he wondered if everything should find a beginning here on the big war table-  
"We can make up for the romance later on" Cas smiled, as if he had read Dean's mind. He leaned his chin on Dean's shoulder, his lips against Dean's ear.  
  
"I want you, Dean Winchester. Right here, right now, on this goddamn table. I want you to strip down and get on that table. And then i want to ride you until you come inside me." A warm shiver ran down Dean's back and all the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, stretched out towards the voice that had just whispered dirty things into his ear. Dean liked dirty talk and from the mouth of the always so well-mannered angel, it seemed even more inciting than usual.  
  
"Sam will have to hold his ears, Dean," Cas breathed as he ran his tongue around Dean's pinna. Sam?! Right, his brother was still in the bunker, hopefully asleep. Nervously, Dean pulled the lumberjack shirt off his shoulders, trying to get out of his shoes at the same time, which made Cas laugh. With the snap of his fingers, the clothes lay neatly folded on the floor. Cas slipped off the table top, spun around with Dean and pressed the hunter against the table. Dean grabbed the edge of the table, slipped with his bare bottom onto the amazingly warm underlay. The pale lamps had warmed the glass plate on which the continents of the earth were marked. Dean slid further back until he lay in the middle of the table. His gaze went briefly to the stairs leading up the long wall to the exit.  
  
Were any of the other hunters planning to come back today? What would happen if they found Dean here on the table, naked, with an equally naked angel on his lap. Dean pushed the thought aside when he saw Cas pulling himself onto the table and crawling towards him like a cat in heat. Arriving at Dean's lap, Cas licked over his full lips before bending down with a grin that reminded the hunter of Casifer. Dean watched Cas's mouth move ever closer to his cock, which was bouncing up and down in joyful anticipation as if it knew what was about to happen. In slow motion Cas's lips, accompanied by a soft "Hmm", closed around the shiny red tip and Dean suddenly didn't care that he was lying here like pie in a cake display. Cas's lips were soft and just right. Deeper he picked it up in his mouth, wandered up and down and let his tongue explore every millimeter of the shaft.

"Oh... God... Cas," Dean drifted away as the angel circled the tip of his tongue around Dean's glans and kept nudging gently against the exit of the urethra. Dean lay back, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Where had Cas learned this? The angel exchanged his mouth for his hand, grasped Dean's shaft and let it slide through his palm a few times to spread his own spittle and the clear drops of lust all over his penis. Then he crawled further forward, swinging one leg over Dean's lap and sliding back and forth until his butt floated directly over Dean's cock. Dean opened his eyes and the sight of Cas alone unleashed another gush of pleasure. With spread legs he was enthroned above Dean and the hunter had to think of the Greek statues he had once seen in a museum that Sam had dragged him to. Cas' body seemed as if chiseled in the light of the war table. A perfect V of broad, muscular shoulders and narrow hips, complemented by strong thighs and a privation that was not to be sneezed at. But Dean found the face of the angel much more exciting. His own drops of pleasure glittered on the angel's lower lip and in his eyes grace lurked with a barely perceptible glow of blue and silver, ready for any infamy that might come. Cas leaned back slightly, his hand reaching down behind his back and he directed Dean's cock into the correct position.

Dean could feel Cas' ring of muscles in front of his glans, felt it slowly slide through the entrance and then his cock was embraced by a warmth and tightness that had never been felt before. With a deep groan, Cas had settled down on Dean, completely absorbing his penis. For a brief moment he remained in this position, then he leaned forward a little, leaned his hands on Dean's chest and began to move. Dean spread his legs, put them on and pressed his feet against the table. Immediately, he adapted to the angel's movements. Cas had his eyes closed and again the grace tails danced around his body, stroking Dean's naked skin up to his hands where they wrapped around his wrists and pressed them against the tabletop above his head. Cas's weight held him on the tabletop, allowing movement only when he rose briefly. A second tentacle had wrapped itself around Cas's cock, rubbing him in time with his movements and Dean's thrusts. Dean bit his lip to diminish his excitement as he wanted to enjoy the sight forever. A third tentacle left Cas' body wandered down his pelvis around the angel's buttocks. Dean could feel the warm ray as it glided around his own testicles and then slipped between his legs. Never before had Dean had anything in his butt but a thermometer in his childhood. "Cas?," he murmurred, half sceptical, half turned on by the thought that Cas mercy would penetrate him. Cas did not answer, seemed to be floating in another world. But his mercy was on the point. Carefully she teased Dean's anus, stroking around the dark rosette before he barely felt it slip into him. Then it began to slowly inflate like a balloon. Dean moaned at the feeling of being slowly dilated. The grace was gentle on him, giving him time to get used to the feeling, but Dean would not hold back and if he could not sit for the next few days.

"Cas, come on. Fuck me, with your grace," he pressed out, and before he had even finished saying the sentence, the grace began to move within him. Pushing back and forth.

"Yes, that's it, Cas... oh God, that's so good...hmmm", the words just gushed out of Dean as an outlet for the incredible feelings that were flowing around his body. Cas had increased his speed, rode Dean like a stallion who still had to be taught manners, moaning his lust unabashedly into the cool air of the bunker, where it echoed from the thick concrete walls.

"Cas... oh, God.” The grace in his buttocks had slightly changed its angle, now bouncing against Dean's prostate with each blow, sending wave after wave of excitement through his body. "I can't... hold myself back, Cas," Dean moaned as he pressed his abdomen against Cas's pelvis. "Dean... come inside me ... mark me as yours," Cas groaned. Dean closed his eyes, let go and the knot of excitement in his body burst like a soap bubble. He felt his cock twitch in Cas's anus and pour out.

"Dean, oh......fuck" Cas came with a long scream. Seed spurting across Dean's chest as the tentacles retracted as if on a secret command. Cas slumped forward, leaning heavily breathing on Dean's chest.

"Sam will hate us," he said after a while. He let Dean slip out of him and curled up on the table next to the hunter. "Nah, he'll just never be able to eat at this table again," Dean laughed and imagined his brother's disgusted face. "hmmm," tired, Cas snapped his fingers again. A short gust of wind came up and filled the room with the fresh smell of sea and sunshine.

"At least it no longer smells of us." A second snip cleaned them and the room and a third wrapped Dean and Cas in fresh, clean clothes, which -Dean was sure – would disappeare in their bedroom


End file.
